


I roll and I roll, 'til I change my luck

by scrunchyharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Blow Jobs in a Car, Brat Louis, Car Sex, Deepthroating, Dom Harry, Face-Fucking, First Meetings, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Ice Skating, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Rich Louis, Smut, Sub Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:17:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2530328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrunchyharry/pseuds/scrunchyharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“They’re not my best pictures.”</i>
</p><p> <i>“I wouldn’t say that, I think you look quite good being manhandled by a bigger man.”</i></p><p> <i>Louis chokes on his sip of hot chocolate, feeling it burn its way down his throat. He coughs a few times and then clears his throat. “I’m sorry?!”</i></p><p><i>“You heard me. You should do it more often, it might make you more humble. Maybe you’ll learn to respect people.”</i><br/> <br/>Or Louis is a bored, rich kid whose latest stunt got him arrested and forced to attend a fundraiser at an ice rink, Zayn is his unlucky partner in crime, Harry is the cute hospital volunteer who is having none of his attitude, Niall is the worst DJ in the world, and Liam is Leslie Knope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I roll and I roll, 'til I change my luck

**Author's Note:**

> Because life has granted us with not one, but two gifts in the past two days, namely Harry Styles ice skating and Louis Tomlinson looking expensive and important in a suit and an Aston Martin, we decided that the best thing to do was mash them up together into one AU because why the hell not.
> 
> (Obviously here the 'we' isn't royal, but refers to the fact that there is two of us. It's far from the first fic written for either of us, but it is our first for this fandom)

So, like, Louis didn’t mean to get arrested. He was only out with friends, having a good time, just hanging out, right? But, turns out, when you’re sort-of-kind-of famous because of the man who’s only claim to fatherhood is knocking up your mother, illegally entering a miniature golf court to play at three in the morning because you were drunk and thought it’d be a good idea gets you arrested. Like, _whatever_. It’s not like Louis killed someone, is it? Maybe he shouldn’t have left with a bag of balls, but he had to have something to prove he’d done it. To improve his street cred or whatever. Or maybe they shouldn’t have trashed the place. Yeah, that’s probably why he got arrested, come to think of it.

The point is, it was honestly not a big deal, but then the police showed up at their door the next day and of course, _of course_ the media was there, so it got publicised to hell and back and now Louis’ known as that rich, sort-of-kind-of famous guy pinned to a car by a police officer thanks to the _Daily Mail_. He considered suing, but it wasn’t libel, his lawyer said. Maybe if he hadn’t given the officer lip he wouldn’t have been pinned to the car, his lawyer said. _Whatever_. The man was asking for it, being arrogant with Louis and treating him like some bum. So what if he said he didn’t fuck on the first date, but might give him head if he kept manhandling him like that? It’s not like Louis would have done it.

The fact that they found weed on him probably didn’t help. They brought Zayn in, too, even though there had been six of them. Louis figures that he was brought in because he’s sort-of-kind-of famous and he would be bailed out, and Zayn because he’s, well. The exact words Zayn yelled were, “It’s because I’m fucking brown, is it? ‘Oh, look at that, fucking terrorist tried to bomb the city’, piss off, mate, we broke into a mini-golf court!” 

Louis had hoped to deny everything, but yeah, that didn’t happen.

Long story short, his father came down to the station, yelled a bit and got him bailed out and somehow managed to pay the coppers enough to save Louis a criminal record or any sort of consequences because of the drugs or the destruction of private property and it was one of those times when Louis had a sort of clarity, epiphany-like moment and realised just how filthy rich they were. Like, Bruce Wayne rich, probably. Bruce Wayne wouldn’t go to jail, would he? Even Batman’s left alone and that’s because he’s rich. Or something.

Obviously, his father flipped a shit when they got home, but that was to be expected. Louis settled himself comfortably in one of the leather chairs of his father’s office and braced himself for at least an hour long lecture on stuff he never really paid attention to anyway, but what he got instead was far, far worse than he could have ever imagined.

He got the usual ‘we’re disappointed’ and ‘you’re an embarrassment to this family’, which he brushed off with the wave of a hand, but then his father started going on and on about taking responsibility for his actions and having to grow up one day. That was new; before Louis had more or less been left alone as long as he went to university and, like, didn’t set the house on fire.

“There’s a fundraiser next week,” his father said and Louis tensed. Nothing good could possibly follow those words. “You’ll attend it in our name.”

No matter how hard or loudly Louis protested his father wouldn’t budge. He tried sulking, yelling, playing along, crying, threatening, blackmailing and emotionally manipulating his father, but nothing changed his mind. Louis would have to “be a bloody adult” for once.

That’s how he found himself outside the National History Museum glaring at an ice rink, hoping that perhaps if he glared enough, the ice might melt and he’d be saved having to pretend he enjoyed ice skating and was delighted to be collecting funds for a children’s hospital.

“Next time you’ve got a brilliant idea, keep it to yourself,” Louis snaps into his phone. He has his brand new ice skates slung over his shoulder and is currently putting off the moment he’ll have to put them on as much as possibly by reminding Zayn that, “This is all your fault.”

“ _At least your father got you off the charges. I’ve got a court hearing next week_ ,” Zayn snaps back, making Louis roll his eyes.

“Better than ice skating with a bunch of sick kids and the Bible-bashing volunteers who’ll try to make us cry to give them more money. ‘Look at poor Stella here, she’s only got three weeks left to live unless you give us your car’s worth in donations’!” Louis bumps into someone at that moment, his whole world turning to a black coat and a smell of peppermint for a second, and he groans, not even bothering to look up. He hears the man mutter an apology and he does not return it.

“ _Are you making fun of sick children? Tell me you didn’t mean that._ ”

“I didn’t,” Louis concedes, feeling bad now that he reconsiders what he said. “Like, I’d be glad to be here if I weren’t forced, you know? I’d have come anyway. But now that my dad’s dangling a criminal record over my head if I don’t act like a good lap dog, I’ve got to ice skate and have fun. And I’m overdressed, like everyone’s wearing jeans and I’m in a three-piece suit.”

“ _Stop being such a self-centred bastard and go skate. I’ve got a meeting with my lawyer._ ”

Wishing Zayn good luck, Louis hangs up and gets closer to the ice rink. There is already a crowd on the ice and he recognises a few faces. Based on their skills on the ice, Louis supposes they’re Olympic athletes. There goes his chance of not looking like a twat for having no idea how to skate. Busy as he is surveying the scene, frowning in sympathy when a boy, probably no more than eight, falls on his bum and then snorting at the frankly horrifying playlist – seriously, how many boy bands can they put in the same list before someone loses their mind? – Louis does not notice the man skating towards him until he breaks and stops in front of him, leaning on the board. He’s smiling almost manically and Louis returns it uncertainly.

“Hi! You must be Louis, I’m Liam,” Liam says, extending his hand.

Louis shakes it, internally rolling his eyes that this is an event where everyone will use first names. More like _How Not To Be Taken Seriously 101_. “Louis Tomlinson,” he says, adding his last name with emphasis. He’s there for a reason, after all, and that reason isn’t fun.

“Louis! We were expecting you! It’s an honour to have you here, really, your family has always done so much for our fundraisers. And I see you brought your skates, that’s good! Put them on and join us!”

Arse-kissing, right on time. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Louis replies pleasantly. “I think for now I’ll just stay here and watch, though.”

“Absolutely not. Everyone has got to get on the ice. It’s a rule,” Liam insists and just from his tone of voice, Louis can imagine how awful it must be to work with him.

He sounds like he’d be the kind of guy to put in way too much effort into what he does and expect everyone to do the same, only to act disappointed when they don’t meet his ridiculously high standards. That, and something about the way he’s standing tells Louis he doesn’t know how to have fun. 

“Come on, now, we haven’t got all night!” Liam insists, his tone polite, but demanding. 

Oh, yes, Louis has guessed right.

“Fine, alright, it won’t kill me I suppose,” Louis mumbles, finally giving in to the pressure. 

Once he’s got his skates on, Louis hobbles to the ice and holds on to the board as he puts a first foot on it. It immediately slides out from under him and he grips the board tighter, holding most of his weight with his arms. Liam is by his side the next second, holding out his arm.

“Let me help,” he says and he’s smiling without a hint of mockery, so Louis gives in and grips Liam’s arm, letting the taller man guide him.

Liam begins slowly, giving Louis advice on how to shift his weight so that his centre of gravity changes and how to move his feet, and before long, he’s moved from Louis’ side to holding his hands while he skates backwards.

“You’re doing great!” Liam says cheerfully.

Louis will be damned, but he’s actually almost having fun. He still has the conviction and the terror that he is a second away from falling to his death, but he is also quite enjoying the feeling of skating. On top of it, Liam has not mentioned once Louis’ arrest, which is refreshing.

“He might be, but Stella is better,” a voice to their left says.

Louis looks to the side to see a tall, handsome – he might go as far as to say _dreamy_ , but he’d never admit it, even under torture – man with a mop of curly hair on his head and wearing a black, unbuttoned coat with a black shirt underneath. A few of the buttons are undone despite it being _October_ , letting tattoos peek out. The man stumbles a little and throws his arms out to catch his balance, this entire thing he had going on, the dark and handsome man, thrown out the window. It makes Louis chuckle, but it doesn’t take away the fact that he remains one of the most gorgeous men Louis has ever seen.

“There’s no Stella here?” Liam asks, frowning. “That’s Harry, by the way. Harry, this is Louis Tomlinson, from the Tomlinson Foundation.”

“I know there’s no Stella,” Harry says, glancing at Louis. “Hello, Louis.”

Louis’ stomach sinks. It was Harry he bumped into and Harry who heard him. It figures that he’d manage to alienate the only interesting person he would meet during the event.

“Nice to meet you, Harry,” Louis says, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

Liam looks between the two of them for a moment, at Louis who is staring at his feet and Harry who is pointedly looking away, and he frowns. “Is it me, or it got a bit chilly? Anyone up for some hot chocolate? There’s this shop, they honestly make the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had, and they agreed to sponsor us, isn’t it great?”

Louis appreciates the effort, but there’s no hope. Harry has probably already decided that Louis is a jerk and there’s no use trying to win him over, not that he’d have the personality to do that anyway.

“Actually, I think I’ll go for a smoke, so if you could just… tow me off the ice, that’d be much appreciated.”

Liam obliges and Harry watches them go without saying a word. When Louis’ back on solid ground, he walks as efficiently as he can back to where he left his shoes and changes back into them before trying to find a spot where he might hide and have a moment of peace and quiet away from the handsome man he’s managed to insult before he even met him properly.

Once he walks far enough away from the rink, Louis finds a spot away from the floodlights and secluded enough that he won’t be bothered there. He fetches his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and takes one out, lighting it and sighing with contentment after the first drag. He leans against a nearby tree and closes his eyes, listening to the horrendous music that’s blasting from the speakers. He isn’t quite sure, but he thinks it might be Justin Bieber. Someone needs to find that DJ and sack him for the sake of humankind.

He gets through half of his cigarette before he hears someone getting closer. Through the cloud of smoke he exhales, Louis recognises Harry. He lets him come nearer and decides to let him break the ice.

“I brought hot chocolate,” Harry says and Louis nods, taking a long, slow drag from his cigarette. Harry’s voice goes straight to his groin, making heat radiate inside of Louis. Unexpectedly low and rough, almost post-coital. Louis would love to hear it when it is, in fact, wrecked by sex.

“Peace offering?”

“Of sorts, yeah. We got off on the wrong foot.”

Louis chuckles, watching the puffs of smoke rise up. He knows that smoking is bad for him and everything, but damn if the smoke isn’t gorgeous on a cold night like that. “You could say that.”

Louis takes one of the cups and finishes his cigarette, flicking it on the ground and stomping on it before he cradles the cup between his hands, letting the heat seep through his skin to thaw his fingers. He should have brought gloves.

“Hold this for me,” Harry says, handing his cup to Louis. He then puts a hand inside his coat and rummages for a second before he retrieves a small flask. 

Judging by the smell that wafts to Louis’ nose when Harry uncaps the flask, it appears to be the origins of the smell of peppermint from earlier. “Crème de menthe?”

“Peppermint schnapps,” Harry corrects him, pouring alcohol in both of their cups before pocketing the flask and taking back his own cup. “Surprising, hm, for a Bible basher?”

“Listen, about that…” Louis begins, but he shuts up when Harry raises his hand.

“Let me guess: ‘You didn’t mean it, you’re not actually a jerk, you’re just pretending to be one’?” Harry asks with a lopsided smile.

Louis pouts. “That was my line.” He takes a sip from the hot chocolate and nods to himself. He has to give it to Liam for not overselling the stuff: it is actually pretty good. The alcohol, on the other end, reminds him of that one time he got drunk on his Nan’s minibar and puked green.

It’s Harry’s turn to chuckle. “Your fault for being predictable.”

“Let’s start again, then,” Louis says, extending his hand, giving Harry his best charming smile, the infallible one that could probably win over the Queen herself. Some say Louis has too much confidence. They might not be wrong. “Hi, I’m Louis.”

“Harry,” Harry replies, shaking his hand. “Welcome to our fundraiser, it’s an honour to have you here, we look forward to your donations,” he then drones, finishing with a roll of his eyes. “Liam is good at arse-kissing, I’m not. I suppose he already did?”

“Very much so.” 

Harry nods and they fall silent. Louis doesn’t mind it so much until the music changes to yet another Justin Bieber song. He groans as if he’d been wounded.

“You’ve got something against the music?”

“The DJ needs to be shot for the sake of humanity.”

“That’s Niall. He’s my best mate,” Harry deadpans before taking a small sip of hot chocolate.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Ah, wouldn’t you like it if I were?”

Louis lets out a dry, apologetic laugh and drinks again, almost choking when he sees Harry winking at him. Usually, Louis is good at flirting with gorgeous boys he hopes to get into his bed. All he has to do is smile and flutter his eyelashes a couple of times before his sort-of-kind-of fame does the rest for him and all that’s left to do is joke once or twice and they’re all but swooning. Harry, though, seems impervious to, well, _everything_ Louis is.

“You do know who I am, right?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Maybe it’d be better if you didn’t talk to me like that. Big donor and all, you’ve got to woo me,” Louis continues, fluttering his eyelashes. 

He knows before he’s done talking that it came out wrong.

Harry lifts his eyebrows, looking almost offended. “You’re quite pretentious, aren’t you? They’d warned me, but I didn’t believe them. I see that I should’ve.”

“And yet, you’re still there,” Louis says hesitantly, trying to see whether he fucked it up already.

Harry sighs. “You’re still our biggest donor.” He takes a small sip from his cup. “Can I be honest?”

“Because you weren’t before?”

“I was looking forward to meeting you,” Harry continues, as if uninterrupted. “So far, you’ve been nothing but a disappointment.”

“Harsh,” Louis replies, drinking so that he has an excuse to bow his head. “But not unwarranted. I’m not known for being nice, you know.”

“No, you’re known for being rich and unpleasant about it.”

Louis chuckles, feeling his stomach clench, before he drinks again. “They’re not wrong.”

“You’re the first person I meet who seems glad that people think he’s a knob.”

Louis shrugs. “You can’t let down someone who expects nothing of you,” he says and then frowns. That got personal real quick.

Harry looks taken aback by Louis’ reply and he nods, staying silent for a moment. He bites his lip and taps it at the same time, which only works to attract Louis’ attention to his plump, cherry red lips. He swallows thickly and looks away, back to the ice rink where Liam is skating with a small girl in an oversized pink coat.

“So, like, what’s Liam’s deal?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, following Louis’ gaze.

“I’m getting a Leslie Knope vibe from him.”

Harry lets out a giggle and they’re both equally startled by it. Harry takes a sip of his hot chocolate before nibbling the rim of the cup for a moment while he looks at Liam. Louis watches Harry instead, especially at Harry’s green eyes, looking almost like bottle glass with the floodlights reflected in them. He’s got a sharp jawline, but there’s a roundness to his cheeks that tells Louis he might be younger than he looks. Louis’ eyes travel to Harry’s nose and he bites his lip, wanting nothing but to kiss his way from Harry’s plump lips up the straight line of his nose before burying his nose in his thick, brown curls. There’s something about Harry that makes him want to protect him, to wrap him up in blankets and feed him cookies, but at the same time he’s also wondering if Harry’s long legs would fit in his Aston Martin while he fucks him.

Harry looks away from the rink and smiles at Louis, and call him a hopeless romantic or a 1970s love song, but it’s like the sun rose in his face, illuminating his face from within. For fuck’s sake, Harry’s turning him into The Carpenters.

“He’s passionate, yeah. Never met anyone who works harder. He put this whole thing together almost by himself. He’s been planning it for months just because he heard that there was one of our kids who’s dream was to ice skate.”

Louis lets out a low whistle. “Wow. So, you guys are both working at the hospital?”

“Yeah, Liam’s a paediatric oncologist, I just come over every other day to hang out with the kids.”

‘ _And I spend my days playing_ The Sims _on my laptop instead of listening to lectures_ ,’ Louis thinks bitterly, biting his lip.

“Well, I don’t have anything as cool to say about my life,” Louis says instead.

“Not even ransacking abandoned miniature golf courts?” Harry is smiling innocently as he says that and Louis is torn between wanting to smack him and kiss him senseless.

“We didn’t ransack it. We used it and then accidentally destroyed a few things.”

“It’s probably considered cooler if you don’t try to downplay what you did. I’ve seen the pictures, it was bloody ransacked.”

“Is it more impressive that way?” Louis asks, back into flirty mode. There might still be hope.

“There is nothing impressive about what you did. Destroying someone’s property isn’t cool,” Harry says, but there is no heat behind his words. If anything, he looks amused.

Oh yes, there is definitely still hope.

“So you’ve seen the pictures, then? I wouldn’t have guessed you read the _Daily Mail_.”

“It was on the table in the break room. You made the third page, you know.”

Louis nods, bowing his head sheepishly. It’s not like he’s proud of having made the headlines. “They’re not my best pictures.”

“I wouldn’t say that, I think you look quite good being manhandled by a bigger man.”

Louis chokes on his sip of hot chocolate, feeling it burn its way down his throat. He coughs a few times and then clears his throat. “I’m sorry?!”

“You heard me. You should do it more often, it might make you more humble. Maybe you’ll learn to respect people.”

It’s not often that Louis is unsettled by people he’s trying to woo. He can probably count on his fingers the number of times someone’s taken him by surprise and they all don’t live up to what Harry’s doing at the moment. One minute he’s calling Louis a jerk before complimenting him while at the same time lecturing him on his attitude. Louis is reeling from it and he honestly loves it.

“I honestly can’t tell whether you’re flirting or not,” Louis admits.

Harry pouts, shrugging. “Tell me when you’ve figured it out. For now, we’ve got to go back before they imagine we’ve run off to do unholy things.”

“Is ‘unholy’ really the word you’re choosing to go with?” Louis asks, walking quickly to try and keep up with Harry’s never-ending legs.

“I didn’t want to shatter your illusions and show you we’re not Bible bashers.” Harry sits next to where Louis left his skates to change into his own and Louis doesn’t miss how Harry put his things right next to Louis’.

“I didn’t really mean it.”

“Didn’t you? Then why did you say it?” Harry asks lightly, his face unreadable.

Embarrassed and ashamed, Louis shrugs, using the excuse of tying his skates to escape Harry’s gaze. “I don’t know why I say half of the things I say.”

“That might be a problem, don’t you think?”

With that, Harry gets up and walks back to the ice, getting on it and skating away rapidly, but unsteadily. Louis follows him not long after, clinging to the board for a moment before he trusts himself enough to skate on his own. Liam waves at him enthusiastically and gives him the thumbs up, making Louis smile against his will. 

“Harry’s great, isn’t he?” Liam asks, coming closer. 

“Yeah, he’s a good lad.”

Liam nods. “I couldn’t have done it without him. I bet he told you it was all me, didn’t he? He was the one who thought about inviting your family, for the foundation. I think he said something like ‘you mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling’ when he offered, which we did. That’s why we’re here instead of a smaller arena, it’s quite ambitious, but I figured, it’s for the good of our children, so it’s justified, you know?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Louis says, distracted.

Okay, wait, _what_? Harry helped organise an event that, for what Louis can see, is going perfectly? Why wouldn’t he take the credit? No one is that humble and gorgeous _and_ nice all at once. Oh, and he casually drops _Inception_ quotes in conversations, and, like, Eames has always been Louis’ favourite character, for obvious reasons (all of them Tom Hardy). It is quite possible, Louis decides, that Harry isn’t actually human.

The realisation takes his attention off Liam and especially off the ice and he’s falling on his bum before he can understand what’s happening, letting out a huff of pain when his coccyx collides with the hard surface, sending a shockwave of pain through his entire body. Looking around to check if anyone witnessed his fall, he sees Harry barely holding back his laughter, looking sheepish and amused at once.

As he’s trying to get back up – Louis never thought he’d wish for friction while at a kids’ event, but he’s lost control of his life lately, hasn’t he? – a little girl wearing a turquoise dress over her coat comes closer. She’s wearing an orange hat and Louis can see that underneath, she’s bald. He feels his heart tighten. 

“Do you need help?” she asks and now that she’s closer, Louis recognises the dress. Merida. He understands the colour of her hat at once. The perks of having ten million sisters, eh?

“Why yes, I do, Your Grace,” he tells her, delighted to see her blush and smile.

“I’m not a princess,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Aren’t you? You’ve got the dress, though.”

She giggles, putting her hands over her mouth before she remembers why she came over and holds one out to help Louis. With a bit of her help and a lot more from Liam who conveniently hoists him up with his hands under his arms before skating away like nothing happened, Louis is back on his feet. He keeps the girl’s hand in his.

“You seem quite good at this, love, can you show me how you do it?” Louis asks her, smiling to see her nod enthusiastically.

Half an hour later, Louis is skating hand in hand with the girl – Daisy, she giggled to know Louis has a sister with the same name – and singing Disney songs with her. It’s just like being with his sisters, the one thing in his life Louis can do without fucking up. He’s got this under control. He even has the chance to witness Harry falling on his arse in a spectacular way, his legs coming up almost over his head as he rolls backwards under the strength of the fall. He laughs loud enough to make sure that Harry heard him and when he catches sight of his blushing face, he congratulates himself with a mental pat on the back.

That is, until he gets too into their rendition of ‘A Whole New World’ and decides to lift her like he saw the athletes do earlier or like he’s Patrick Swayze, only to lose his balance and feel his feet slip out from underneath him. It’s like it happens in slow motion: he can see himself lose his footing and then can imagine the fall, how he’ll most definitely hurt a child with cancer and what kind of fucking useless human being does that?!

Before it can happen, though, he feels two strong hands steadying him. He puts Daisy down and she waves him goodbye, quickly skating away. He’d get away from himself, too, if he could, so he can’t blame her. Turning, he sees Harry and his heart gives a hopeful flutter.

“You’re good with children,” Harry comments, linking their arms and pulling Louis along as he starts skating once more. From what Louis has seen, it’s as much to stabilise Louis as it is for himself.

“I’m not a total jerk,” Louis replies, a bit too aggressively. “I’ve got loads of sisters.”

Harry nods. “I didn’t believe it until I saw you with Daisy, to be honest. That you weren’t a jerk, I mean. I didn’t believe it. I wanted to, but…”

“But I’m prickly. I know. Everything I’ve tried to say this evening has come out wrong.”

Harry gives a small shrug. “Doesn’t matter, now. You’ve proven to be an okay person after all.”

“Just okay?”

“Don’t push it,” Harry says, chuckling. “You’ve got a reputation.”

“Fair enough,” Louis concedes.

“But I’m willing to see beyond it.”

“Are you?” Louis asks, his heart rate picking up. He feels like a teenage girl; he’s not used to be the one swooning, but Harry is, well, he’s everything Louis could never hope to be and he makes him wish he were a better person so he’d feel worthy of Harry’s attention.

“Yeah. I might regret it some day, but…” He shrugs, trailing off. “What can I say, you’re cute.”

Louis giggles, losing his balance. He grips Harry’s arm tighter. “You think so?”

“I might, yeah.”

Louis can’t tell if the colour on Harry’s cheek comes from the cold or if it’s a blush, and it only makes him like the man more.

“Why didn’t you tell me you helped Liam organise the event?”

“It’s Liam’s big night, I didn’t want to take it away from him. I wasn’t trying to be humble or anything, it’s just what it is. He honestly did most of the work, but I helped.”

“You’re a great person, Harry. I’m glad I met you,” Louis says earnestly. For once, it comes out exactly like he wanted it to and the smile Harry gives him was worth the uncharacteristic honesty he displayed.

“Thanks. I’m glad I met you, too. Despite, well, most of our conversations tonight.” Harry winks.

“So, hypothetically, if I asked you out… what would you say?”

Harry stops skating abruptly, causing Louis to stumble forward. Harry catches him and turns to face Louis, gnawing at his lip. Louis stays quiet, giving Harry time to think it through. Rushing him would be disastrous. 

Around them, the skaters are all moving in one direction, forming dizzying flashes of colours that Louis can see out of the corner of his eyes. The speakers are blaring Martin Stevens’ ‘Love Is In The Air’, confirming to Louis that whoever that Niall is, he has the worst music taste in the history of human culture.

“I don’t know, I’d have to think about it,” Harry replies, giving Louis a lopsided smile. “I suppose I could be convinced.”

His smile turns dirty and there is no mistaking what he’s trying to say. Louis feels heat flare up inside of him and he grips Harry’s arm tighter, returning the smile.

“Could you?” Louis asks, looking up at Harry through his eyelashes and batting them slowly.

He’s rewarded by Harry biting his lip. “You’d have to be a good boy.”

Louis bites his lip, trying not to grin, but he fails and gives up, letting his smile bloom. “I will, I promise.”

Still smiling, he looks at Harry’s exposed neck and shakes his head. He might be overdressed in his suit, but Harry is definitely underdressed with half of his shirt undone and his coat opened. Taking his scarf off, Louis wraps it around Harry’s neck, smiling to see how the russet and gold compliment Harry’s skin perfectly. Harry is looking at him with wide eyes, his lips slightly parted, and it’s more than Louis can take. Pulling on the ends, Louis brings Harry closer.

“I can’t let you freeze to death, now, can I?” Louis says before he closes the gap between them and presses a quick kiss to Harry’s lips.

He hears Harry gasp and Louis gives a chuckle before Harry kisses back, taking the laugh out of him with the press of his lips. 

“I don’t usually kiss before a first date,” Harry says in a low voice, staying close enough to Louis that he can feel his warm breath on his lips and smell the chocolate and peppermint on it. “But I’ll make an exception for you. Thank you for the scarf, posh boy.”

Louis laughs. “What did I do, this time?”

“This scarf is probably worth more than my rent.”

“If so, you’ve got a cheap flat. Besides, I’m giving it for a good cause. Red Nose Day, isn’t it?” Louis asks, pressing a kiss to the tip of Harry’s reddened nose.

Harry sighs. “I can’t decide if you’re being thick on purpose to make me laugh, or if you’re just thick.”

“Is it working?” Louis asks with a hopeful smile.

“Truth time,” Harry begins, placing his hands flat on Louis’ chest and pointedly ignoring his question. “It’s probably better that you know before we potentially go out, in case you decide I’m too weird.”

“I’m intrigued. Do tell?”

“The pictures of your arrest… there’s one in particular that I’ve liked quite a lot, if you know what I mean.” Harry looks at Louis with wide eyes for emphasis.

It takes Louis half a second to catch on. “Oh, my god. Are you seriously telling me what I think you’re telling me?” When Harry shrugs, Louis bursts out laughing. “So, I’ve been busting my arse trying to flirt with you when you were already sold because you’ve wanked to me getting pinned to a car and handcuffed?”

“I’ve got a fertile imagination and you looked quite good,” Harry says, biting back a smile. “But I wasn’t entirely sold. I wanted to see if you were as much of a jerk as people had said before I asked you out. You beat me to it by a couple of minutes. The song playing a couple of minutes ago wasn’t a coincidence.”

Louis shakes his head in disbelief, looking at Harry like he’s seeing him for the first time. “You scheming little minx,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

Harry laughs. “Yeah, that’s about right. Still interested in a date with me?”

“More than ever, fuck,” Louis breathes out, pulling Harry by his scarf to kiss him one more time.

“Louis! There are children around!” Harry says, pushing Louis’ shoulder before leaning in close enough for Louis to feel his lips press against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “If you’re a good boy tonight, I’ll give you my answer. But only if you’re a good boy,” Harry whispers.

“And if I’m not a good boy, what will you do?” Louis asks, fluttering his eyelashes coyly. What the hell, he can be into that if that’s what Harry likes.

“I might have to handcuff you to teach you how to respect people.” Leaning back with a wicked smile, Harry skates away and joins Liam to speak to a BBC reporter, leaving Louis reeling from what he said.

The rest of the evening is torture, a whirlwind of hand shaking and smiling for the cameras, of pretending to laugh at jokes about his arrest and promising to put people in contact with his father only to throw away the business cards. The only fun part is the children and Louis devotes most of his attention to them, letting them teach him how to properly skate. By the end of the night, he’s able to do a pirouette.

Harry, on the other hand, falls a total of twelve times. It takes Louis all of his will not to laugh because he’s supposed to be a good boy. He really wants that damn date. He doesn’t know how he’s doing, though, because Harry is avoiding him, going away whenever Louis nears him. Louis is afraid that it might be a foreboding of something bad.

It’s only when the last guests have left that Harry seems to remember Louis exists, sitting next to him to take off his skates.

“Congrats for tonight, it was a success,” Louis tells him, smiling up for a second before he goes back to working on the knot in his laces.

“Thanks. Liam’s ecstatic, I think he’s about to explode with happiness. He just told me he loved me, like, ten times.”

Louis laughs. “Good for him. Did you guys reach your goal?”

“More than. And your father said he’d double whatever we got, so yeah, it was a good night.” Harry glances at him. “You were good, too.”

“I’m an excellent schmoozer, you know. It’s my one true talent.”

“The only one, really?” The dirty grin is back on Harry’s face.

“What have you got in that scheming head of yours, now, Harry?”

Harry shrugs. “Nothing. Hey, have you got a car? I’d ask you for a ride, my legs are tired from skating so much and commuting right now sounds like hell.”

Lifting his eyebrows, Louis chuckles. “Well, that was straightforward. Yes, I do have a car.”

“Let’s go, then. I’ve got a cat to go feed, he’s probably already destroyed a few plants to protest how long I was gone today.”

Gathering his skates quickly, Louis follows Harry to the car park, wondering why he’s in such a hurry all of a sudden. It’s also unsettling to follow orders; Louis is used to call the shots, but with Harry, he naturally let him take control. Louis swallows thickly when he thinks about what it means for their hypothetical future sex life.

There are only a few cars left when they get there, and Harry goes towards the silver Aston Martin without having to ask. Louis unlocks the door and watches Harry get in the passenger seat. He bites his lip as he gets behind the wheel and shuts his door, the sound deafening in the silence between them.

“So…” Louis begins, only to be pulled into a kiss.

He lets out a yelp and kisses back immediately, pulling on his scarf to bring Harry closer, and then wrap his arms around his neck, burying a hand in the curls at the back of Harry’s neck.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this all night,” Harry mutters against Louis’ lips before nibbling the bottom one and tugging it with his teeth.

Louis hisses and nods, pulling his head back to free his lip before kissing Harry again, licking into his mouth hungrily. “Me too, me too,” Louis whispers. “Is that a yes? For the date?”

“I’m still unsure you’re a good boy,” Harry says with a tug to Louis’ trench coat to pull him closer.

Louis kneels on his seat and takes Harry’s head between his hands to press bruising kisses on his lips and give himself time to think. He’s never been, well, the proper word would be _submissive_ , he supposes. He’s loud and brash, instinctively taking control. But with Harry, his instincts betray him, making him want to let Harry do whatever he wants with him. What he mostly hopes for, though, is that Harry will ask for a blowjob. Louis kind of ridiculously wants to go down on him, he salivates just to think about it.

“How can I prove to you that I am?” he asks, trailing kisses from Harry’s lips up his nose and forehead before pressing a final one on his hairline. He buries his nose in Harry’s curls and breathes in the smell of his shampoo, stroking his thumbs on Harry’s cheekbones at the same time.

“I have an idea,” Harry says, running his hand down Louis’ chest, not stopping until he can palm at Louis’ cock, making him whine through his nose. 

“Anything,” Louis breathes out, covering Harry’s face with kisses. “I’ll do anything, you just have to ask.”

“I want you to blow me.” Harry’s voice wavers and that one tremor confirms to Louis what he’d been suspecting: it’s Harry’s first time doing something of the sort, too. It’s oddly reassuring.

Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s lips and then nods, eyes wide. “Yes, I really want to do that.”

“What’re you waiting for, then?” Before Louis can move, Harry stops everything he’s doing, going as far as removing his hand from Louis’ cock. “You can stop me whenever. You just need to say it.”

“I don’t plan on stopping you, but thank you. You’re sweet.” Louis kisses him again, to reassure Harry and, if he’s honest, himself, too.

Moving out of the kiss, Louis pulls up Harry’s shirt, letting out a hum of appreciation when he sees the laurels tattooed on his hips and then working on unbuckling Harry’s trousers. Normally, he’d spend some time teasing him, but they’re technically in public and it’s freezing, so he cuts to the chase and unbuttons Harry’s trousers as soon as his belt is undone. The zipper comes next and Louis slips his hand inside Harry’s trousers, stroking his cock through his underwear in slow, deliberate movements.

Harry bites his lip and lets out a muffled moan, his legs opening wider. He begins rolling his hips against Louis’ hand and Louis uses his free hand to pull Harry into another kiss. It turns dirty quickly and Louis presses harder on Harry’s crotch, feeling his cock grow under his hand. When he’s satisfied with what he can feel, he breaks the kiss and reaches inside Harry’s underwear to pull out his cock, watching it spring free and bob up with hungry eyes.

“Shit, Harry, that’s… that’s impressive,” Louis comments, wrapping his hand around Harry’s shaft and stroking it a few times, watching in awe how the size of it dwarfs his hand.

Harry giggles, of all things. “Thanks?”

Giving Harry a smile, Louis bends down, putting one hand on Harry’s knee for leverage, and gives the tip of his cock a kitten lick. Harry hums and leans back in the seat, running a hand through Louis’ hair and leaving it there. Louis’ turn to him, glancing up at Harry to nod his approval.

“Hands behind your back,” Harry says before Louis can take him in his mouth. “I’d handcuff you, but I don’t have anything here. You’ll just have to be a good boy and keep them there.”

Louis’ entire body shivers and he nods. “Let me just…” Reaching around Harry, Louis pulls on a handle on the side of the seat. “Move it back as much as it will go.” Once it’s done, he climbs over the console and slips between Harry’s legs to kneel in front of him. It’s a tight fit, but when Harry squeezes his legs around Louis’ shoulder, he stops caring.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Louis leans in and licks the tip of Harry’s cock once more, watching it twitch with a satisfied smirk. After that, he takes it in his mouth and sucks lightly, running his tongue on and around it, lapping at the slit, keeping it light and teasing. Above him, Harry is letting out low moans, his hands settling into Louis’ hair, fingers tightening in it. Louis hums around Harry’s cock and is rewarded by a tug on his hair that makes him smile.

From that moment on, Louis makes quick work of swallowing Harry’s length, taking in as much as he can and sucking hard, hollowing his cheeks. He’s making unattractive slurping sounds, most of them drowned out by Harry’s moans. Louis alternates between quick, shallow movements and slow ones that let Harry’s cock in as far as it will go, slowly working himself up to more. He lied, earlier: schmoozing isn’t his only talent. There’s also cock sucking on that list.

On the next down stroke, Louis doesn’t stop when he feels the tip of Harry’s cock hit the back of his throat, instead relaxing it until his nose is pressed against Harry’s abdomen. He breathes hard through his nose and ignores the tears filling his eyes, instead focusing on the absolutely wrecked moans that Harry is letting out. Louis pulls back a bit and them moves forward again, trying to show Harry that he can fuck his throat. On the first tug that Harry gives to his hair, Louis hums, making Harry moan.

Gripping his hair tighter, Harry pulls Louis’ head back and Louis chokes a bit on the slow drag of Harry’s cock, only to moan when Harry pushes his head forward again. He pulls on his hair once more, harder this time, and Louis’ cock twitches painfully in his trousers when Harry pulls him down once more.

It takes Harry a moment to work up to a rhythm, but when he does, Louis has to dig his nails in his palms so he doesn’t come untouched. Harry’s legs are bracketing him tightly and his hand is tugging hard on Louis’ hair, making him moan each time. He’s constantly on the verge of choking and his throat is sore, but he keeps taking it, doesn’t want to stop for one second, enjoying every damn second of it, his own hips rolling forward helplessly, his hands twitching behind his back with the effort of keeping them there.

Louis loses his concentration for one second and he gags, unprepared for Harry’s next push, and immediately Harry pulls him back enough for his cock to slip out of Louis’ mouth with a loud, wet pop. Louis coughs and shakes his head.

“I’m fine,” he says, voice scratchy. He opens his mouth and tries to pull against Harry’s hand to take his cock in his mouth again, but Harry holds him back.

“No more throat thing, though,” Harry says, releasing his grip of Louis’ hair. “Don’t want you to choke.”

“’Throat thing’? How old are you, Harold?” Louis quips before sinking his mouth down on Harry’s cock once more.

“I’m 20 years old.”

Louis pulls off again, looking up at Harry with wide eyes. He did not expect an answer, especially not that one. “I thought you were older.”

“Are you?”

“22. Almost 23.”

“Oh, I thought you might have been younger.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “I’m going to finish sucking your cock, now, okay? We can talk about our lives later.”

Harry laughs and nods, only to moan loudly when Louis begins bobbing his head quickly, intent on making Harry come soon. His own cock is in agony in his trousers and he doubts he’ll be allowed to touch it before Harry has come. The thought makes his cock twitch and he winces, moving his head ever faster.

His jaw is sore by the time Harry tugs on his hair, pulling Louis off. “I’m close,” he gasps, hips thrusting forward, completely out of control.

“Can’t use my hands,” Louis says. “You’ll have to finish on your own.”

Harry groans and thumps his head against the headrest. “You can use your hands, just… just do something, please,” he whines.

Louis kisses his hip just below the tattoo to soothe him before wrapping both hands around his length to jerk him off quick and hard, his saliva making the slide easier and his hands move faster than he intended. He suckles on the tip of Harry’s cock and pulls off just in time when he hears Harry let out a deep groan, feeling the first spurt hit his cheek when he doesn’t move out of the way fast enough.

He strokes Harry’s cock through his orgasm, tugging the last drops out of him before letting go and wiping his hand on Harry’s underwear. He smiles up at Harry, who gives him a dopey grin in return.

“Your turn. Come here.”

Louis doesn’t need to be told twice. He climbs into Harry’s lap and they both scramble to undo his pants. Louis lets out a moan when Harry slip his hand in his underwear, Louis helping him by getting up on his knees to pull his trousers and pants down before he sits back down. He wraps his arms loosely around Harry’s neck and rests their foreheads together, looking down to watch Harry’s large hand wrap around his cock. He moans again when Harry begins jerking him off and it takes him less than a minute to come, letting go with a cry when Harry runs his thumb over the slit over and over again. He clings to Harry as his entire body shakes and he lets out a series of high-pitched moans that turn into whines when Harry keeps stroking his cock after he has come. He bats his hand away and collapses against his chest, pressing a lazy kiss to his neck, panting loudly in the quiet car.

“Are you saying yes to a date with me, now?” Louis asks, breathless, his mouth against Harry’s neck. He darts out his tongue to lick at the salty skin.

“I suppose I’ve got to, yes,” Harry replies with a chuckle.

“That was the deal. I showed you I could be a good boy.”

“I don’t think good boys do what you just did,” Harry says and Louis searches blindly for his nipple, pinching it when he finds it. Harry lets out a squawk of protest.

“You wouldn’t know, would you? Come on, Harold. I’ll spoil you. I’ll take you to a fancy restaurant and we’ll drink champagne and then I’ll walk you to your front door and kiss you on the cheek. It’ll be all proper and shit.”

“Fine, okay, yes, I’ll go on a date with you,” Harry says with a laugh and a kiss to Louis’ lips.

“Good, I didn’t want this to only be a one-night stand. Now, give me a minute and I’ll drive you home.”

“I think I could be convinced to give you all of the minutes in the world,” Harry says softly.

Louis grunts. “Okay, you’ve ruined it. You’ve ruined the moment. I’m driving you home, now, before you make my balls fall off with your Harlequin novel romanticism.”

Harry laughs some more as Louis climbs off him and there’s an awkward minute where they’re both busy tucking themselves back into their trousers, but once that’s done, Harry leans over to press a kiss to Louis’ cheek.

“You’re not a jerk.”

“Oh, good, it means I’ve only got to suck everyone’s dick to convince them of the same thing!” Louis says, smiling when he hears Harry laugh again. He’s a giggly little fucker, who would have thought?

“Just drive me home.”

“Yes, sir.” Louis glances at Harry. “That’s not going to be a thing, me calling you sir. Just so you know. I draw the line there.”

Louis drives away from the museum to the sound of Harry’s laugh, making him smile to himself. He might have to thank his father for the punishment he gave him, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Reblog-able link [here](http://scrunchyharrywrites.tumblr.com/post/101232566289/i-roll-and-i-roll-till-i-change-my-luck-by), and we're [scrunchyharry](http://scrunchyharry.tumblr.com) and [beauxbatonslouis](http://beauxbatonslouis.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.


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